“Thanks, Agatha.”
Sutton’s office was, like the rest of the home, immaculate, spacious, and stocked with furnishings that revealed the man’s expensive travels and taste. Like the collection of shining swords mounted on the wall. Some items were simpler and more personal too. A set of dog tags seemed to float in the center of a velvet-cased shadow box, the metal chains appearing to ride on the wings of a massive breeze. One dull, dented tag for Sutton, the other for his only son, Doug, who lost his life in battle. It was a sobering sight, one that brought Mindy’s letter to the surface for the second time that night.
“Thanks for coming, Burns,” Sutton boomed as Jace entered the office.
“No problem, sir.” Jace had to wonder if the guy slept in a suit. The tailor-made piece, along with the accent, gave life to that whole007thing he had going on.
Sutton lowered himself behind his desk and gave Jace a once-over, his eyes narrowing as they settled on his hair. “Top down?” he asked with a nod.
Jace ran a hand through his hair, squinting to catch a hint of his reflection in a framed document behind Sutton. “Uh, yes, sir. Guess wet hair and convertibles don’t go well together.”
Sutton grinned. “You remind me of myself at your age,” he mused, a wistful look in his eye. “Well now, tell me how you’re liking the job so far.”
Jace was almost positive this wasn’t the reason for the man’s request to meet, but he gave him his best answer, assuring him he’d found his assignments fulfilling. Most recently, Jace had guarded a high profile businessman from Russia who’d come to the US to conduct business. The man wore a target wherever he went. That assignment had lasted three months. Before that, he’d helped out with Logan’s case.
“Mr. Sokolov was very impressed with you. He has already requested you for his next trip to the states.”
Jace nodded. “Glad to hear it.” He nodded some more, wondering when Sutton would get to the point. He could feel it coming, and the wait was starting to make him squirm.
“When you first came on, I assessed you as being keen on thwarting human trafficking. I got the impression there was a personal story behind it. Am I correct?”
Jace’s throat clenched, the topic like a pair of mean, wringing hands to his insides.
“You don’t have to share your story, Jace,” Sutton assured. “I just wanted to know if my instincts were right. I have found I can expect an increased performance when there is a personal tie to our work.”
He had personal ties all right, considering the type of assaults that often resulted from human trafficking. “My mother was attacked when I was a teenager. Attempted rape. She got away. Her attacker did too. But then I tracked him down, stopped him in the act of a different assault, and aided his arrest.”
Sutton lifted his chin. “At sixteen years old, correct?”
Jace gave him a silent nod as his chest heaved with residual anger.
“Impressive.”
“Not really. Any kid who saw their mom …” He cleared his throat, glancing away before setting his eyes back on Sutton. “She had two black eyes, cuts on her hands. Her skirt had been torn. The onlyimpressivething about it is that I was able to let the monster live at all.”
Sutton gave him a hard nod. “Quite true. Thank you for your candor. With that, I’d say my instincts were correct.” He steepled his hands and rested his elbows on the polished desk. “We have been made aware of a US-based website on the dark web. One that facilitates human trafficking. More specifically, sex trafficking among women here in the United States. We’ll be working with a group of cyber specialists who are monitoring the site; Logan will team up with them to assist you. You’ll fly out to whomever’s at risk, we plan a series of sting operations, and take the ring down piece by piece.”
Now it was Jace’s turn to lift a brow. “You’re kidding.” It was the perfect job for him.
“It’s more dangerous than your average protection assignment,” Sutton continued, “since each case should end in a sting operation until we catch the kingpin. These men are devious. Dangerous. And are often in good standing among society. Most of his henchmen—people who do his dirty work—won’t even know his identity. Just a select few at the top.”
Jace had heard every word, but his mind was stuck on one detail in particular. “I love a good sting op,” he admitted. After all, he hadn’t gotten the nickname Scorpion for no reason.
Sutton leaned back in his chair, looking pleased. “So, are you in?”
There would be more details to come, Jace realized, but none he needed in order to form an accurate response. He nodded adamantly.” Absolutely,” he assured. “When can I start?”
